You Don't See Me
by IzziMeyers
Summary: My second songfic, Hermione's POV.  The song is by Josie and the Pussycats, who I loved when I was younger.


Hermione sat on the grounds, both watching he snow fall and seeing nothing at all simultaneously. Her eyes stung with the tears she hated so much. She had never been much of a crier, but lately she felt as if she were made of nothing but water, leaking during class, meal times, even in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep. Of course, this wasn't the first time she cried over him, not at all. For some reason, he was able to upset her in a way that nothing ever could before.

_This is the place where I sit  
>This is the part where<br>I love you too much_

Her heart had never ached like this before she met him, but lately she's felt as if it were cancerous, pulsing with feelings so awful she was sure it would stop beating altogether. It weighed heavily in her chest, bringing her down with it. She was having trouble paying attention in lessons; her Arithmancy coursework were just numbers dancing in front of her eyes as she reminded herself to keep breathing, no matter how hard it became.

_Is this as hard as it gets?  
>'Cause I'm getting tired<br>Of pretending I'm tough_

She remembered the first time she met him on the Hogwarts Express. She had always been a very perceptive person, but right away she recognized that there was something about him that she couldn't quite understand. Looking back she thinks that maybe her perceptiveness wasn't failing her after all, that in fact it might even have been more advanced than her emotions were; looking back she thinks that somehow she had known how her feelings would grow for him, but couldn't recognize that concept at such a tender age. At the time she only knew that there was something drawing her to him, whatever it may be.

_I'm here if you want me  
>I'm yours, you can hold me<br>I'm empty and aching and  
>Tumbling and breakin'<em>

She remembered the first time he made her cry; on Halloween her first year. They thought she had cried because of what he said, but in truth she had cried because he was the one saying it. She had always been a bit of a know-it-all, she accepted, and at times even embraced that detail of her personality. What she did not embrace was the way that her knowledge presented itself; the harshness of it. Whenever she spoke to him, she had always hoped that after the conversation had ended, they would be a little closer somehow. Instead, he only became more and more disgruntled by the words that felt to her as if they were being forced out of her mouth by someone else. She hadn't loved him then, she hadn't even fancied him, but she had wanted to know him, and failing at that upset her. To hear what he was saying did not affect her; she had been teased loads of times at her old school and she never paid it any mind. But to hear that he was the one saying it, to hear that she had messed up her chance to get to know him, that's what made her cry.

_'Cause you don't see me  
>And you don't need me<br>And you don't love me  
>The way I wish you would<br>The way I know you could_

But somehow, miraculously, they had become friends. Over the years she got to know him, but she was still clueless as to what it was about him that threw her off so much. At first she was terrified that she'd say the wrong things again and he'd go back to hating her, but she began to recognize that somehow he couldn't hate her, as if there was something pulling him to her as well. She had become comfortable with him, and she had liked it very much. It seemed as though nothing could go wrong between them…and then their third year came.

_I dream of worlds  
>Where you'd understand<br>And I dream a  
>Million sleepless nights<em>

Third year had been her least favorite, and for good reason. Besides the fact that her course load was near impossible, (though she, of course, had managed,) her and Ron seemed to have spent more time estranged than not. First it was the Firebolt incident; though she had known that they were just being boys and that they'd come around eventually, it still hurt to have both of her best friends mad at her. And though she tried to ignore it at the time, Ron had seemed madder than Harry had. Even after they made up she felt like she was walking on eggshells around him; he hated Crookshanks. Of course, in the end it turned out that Crookshanks was doing the right thing after all, but she still regretted not listening to him when he told her that her cat had it out for Scabbers. And even after she had begun to suspect that he was right, for some reason she couldn't bring herself to admit it to him. Her stubbornness and stupidity had almost ruined their friendship once again…almost.

_I dream of fire when  
>You're touching my hand<br>But it twists into smoke  
>When I turn on the light<em>

Once their fourth year came she had begun to realize what it was that drew her to him that first day on the train; what it was that she couldn't recognize at eleven years old. She had sat and watched as he mulled over who to ask to the Yule ball, sat and watched as he looked over her as easily as if she had been wearing Harry's cloak, sat and watched as he confirmed that he didn't feel the same as her. When Victor asked her, she had said yes, not to make Ron jealous, but because he was sincere and she was more than glad to go with him. Of course, at the ball it was apparent that Ron did feel the same as she did, which, instead of relieving her, infuriated her. Why couldn't he just have asked her in the first place? She was waiting for him to ask her, and by the time he did it was too late. Maybe that's why she stayed with Victor so long, because he was nice and Ron was too late. Of course, they made up in the end, just like they always do.

_I'm speechless and faded  
>It's too complicated<br>Is this how the book ends,  
>Nothing but good friends?<br>_

But how were they supposed to make up now? This was too much for her to handle. After all the years they've spent together, whether blissfully ignorant or simply pretending, how could he possibly think that this wouldn't hurt her? She sat there, picking the un-melted snowflakes off of her mittens and willing herself not to cry anymore. Her cheeks were wet and they smarted in the cold breeze, which only made everything seem all the more worse for her.

_'Cause you don't see me  
>And you don't need me<br>And you don't love me  
>The way I wish you would<em>

She was wondering whether she should go inside and feel sorry for herself in front of the warm fire when she heard a laugh. Her whole body stiffened as if she had been prodded with a very cold metal stick; she had learned to hate that laugh. She looked towards the source of the noise and found, as she knew she would, Ron and Lavender walking towards the castle together.

_This is the place in my heart  
>This is the place where<br>I'm falling apart_

She watched as he talked and she laughed, wishing that it were her instead. She noticed a glove fall out of Ron's pocket as he walked, and he, too busy making Lavender laugh, didn't notice. She wished he could be that focused on her, that she could be more important to him than his own possessions. She sat there, both hating and loving him, as he walked inside.

_Isn't this just where we met?  
>And is this the last chance<br>That I'll ever get?_

She thought for a second about grabbing that glove and burning, pouring all of her hatred, all of her frustration, and all of her love for him into the act. Instead, she sat there and stared at it, watching as the snow began to slowly cover it up, making it harder and harder to see. At that moment, she felt a lot like that glove, and before she knew it, she was no longer holding back the tears.

_I wish I was lonely  
>Instead of just only<br>Crystal and see-through  
>And not enough to you<br>_

She suddenly became aware of how unfair this all is. She had spent years and years with him, being his friend, being there for him, and now it was all gone before she even realized it was in danger of disappearing. How could this be happening to her? She had worked so hard for him, but in the end, he just hadn't worked as hard for her. That was what made it so unfair.

_'Cause you don't see me  
>And you don't need me<br>And you don't love me  
>The way I wish you would<br>_

She noticed movement out of the corner of her eyes and saw that Ron had come back for his glove. She knew by the way he was staring at her that he noticed that she was crying, but she didn't bother pretending that she wasn't. Maybe this would make him realize how much he hurt her; maybe it'd even make him feel guilty. If she couldn't change anything, the least she could do was make him hurt as much as she did, make him realize how unfair it is that she's being shut out after everything they've been through. They stared at each other for awhile, neither one moving except for Hermione's tears. At the time, she thought she saw something in his face, something quite like sadness, but looking back on this moment later, all she would remember is how he turned his back and walked away.

_'Cause you don't see me  
>And you don't need me<br>And you don't love me  
>The way I wish you would<br>The way I know you could_


End file.
